Sunday, June 5, 2011

My horoscope this week theorizes on the "enemy of love". Some examples being time, marriage, and capitalism, which "makes a fetish out of sex". I could definitely see how capitalism skews one's attitude towards sex. It states that the most dangerous enemy of love is not listening well. Are they implying that I am lacking this quality? Ummm... I disagree.. I will read no further (not listening?). I just got off of the phone with my grandma who I call and listen to for 30 minutes plus, three days a week about the most mundane activities possible- like picking the mail up at 3PM, supported by ten reasons why she picks the mail up at three. "Speaking of mail, when I was your age, your grandfather..." See what I mean? I'm a listening pro, and if you've managed to read this far, so are you. Hee-hee!

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Monday, February 7, 2011

Today I volunteered at Books for Africa- a large organization which sends millions of books (over 25 million) to Africa, primarily textbooks ranging from kindergarden to post-secondary education levels, to those without "at the moment". Whenever I say something like "without" or "don't have" or anything that leans towards lack, I always say "at the moment" or "yet" because I believe magic is always at work behind the scenes.

"At the moment" (haha) I am at Starbucks. My intent was to get a table by the window at Barnes where I always sit but every isle in the store was filled with people who were waiting for the opportunity to meet and greet the in-store guest, Russell Simmons. Most guests, ok, 98% of them were African American. A similar situation but different aggregation turned out when Laura Bush made an in-store appearance last summer. I wonder, why must one limit their means of motivation and inspiration from one who physically and perhaps socially most resembles themselves? In a store with thousands of choices, why choose a voice that sounds familiar? I think of those in Africa who may only have access to one leisure read, ever, which they likely will read over and over. One choice. So as Americans, with choices so abundant, why one so undeviating? Emotions are universal; people are people. Why not relate emotionally and intellectually in the foreground with those in a dissimilar background- in untold hues and in foreign locations? Why as Americans are we such creatures of habit and not of opportunity?

Friday, January 28, 2011

I shopped at Whole Foods today and because of my findings yesterday (Whole Food's recent acquiescence to agribiz giants), I did not enjoy my regular shopping experience the same. I can imagine Whole Foods had little say in the matter; a matter that I am very much bothered by. On Slowfood.com there is an article listing the top "Ten Reasons to Say No GMOs". I listed three of them; the commentary that follows is mine.

One. Freedom: GM crops denature the role of farmers, who have always improved and selected their own seeds. GM seeds are owned by multinationals to whom the farmer must turn every new season, because, like all commercial hybrids, second-generation GMOs do not give good results. It is also forbidden for farmers to try to improve the variety without paying expensive royalties.

It's theft! Apparently we as a nation have not moved from the Puritanism from America's onset. To the Indians, "I know you've descended upon this land far before we, but we want it." Much like, to the farmers, "I know you've been growing your crop here for generations on your land but our seeds raped yours- those that you have been saving and planting. "Our check will be in the mail next week, right?...No?...Oh!...See ya in court."

Two. Hunger: Multinationals instead promise that GMOs will feed the world, but since they began to be marketed around 15 years ago, the number of starving people in the world has only grown, just like the profits of the companies that produce the seeds.

Speaking of growth, how about body mass indexes of American adults and children? 30.6% of kids are obese. I remember only one or two per class when I was in elementary school (poor things). That was in the 80's and GMO's began in 1986. As stated in an article in January 2011's National Geographic, the only way to decrease famine in the world is by population reduction. Not a mass production of corn and soy.

Three. Health: It has been shown that animals fed with GMOs can develop health problems.

So if it is not for the touted "feed the world" guise, what is it? Profit!!! Fascism!!! From the farms to the pharmaceuticals. "We'll make you sick on food and when you don't feel so well, go see our buddies. They'll pump you full of drugs!"

Obama... Just like his predecessor, his interests lie in his cozy relations with agrabiz lobbyists and his loyalty to campaign donors. My friend and fellow conscious consumer brought to my attention today that Obama selected pro-biotech, pro-GMO, Monsanto advocate, Tom Vilsack for USDA Secretary. A shocker? No. A disappointing choice? Indeed.

Now top executives from Whole Foods Market, Orgainc Valley, and Stonyfield Farm have publicly admitted that they no longer oppose the mass commercialization of GE crops, such as Monsanto's controversial Roundup Ready alfalfa, and are prepared to sit down and cut a deal for "coexistence" with Monsanto and USDA biotech cheerleader Tom Vilsack.

"The policy set for GE alfalfa will most likely guide policies for other GE crops as well. True coexistence is a must." - Whole Foods Market, Jan. 21, 2011

I have been theorizing as to why "coexistence is a must". Is it because of the likelihood of cross-pollination between GMO and non-GMO seeds? Not only would organic farmers have to answer to (and pay) the owners of the patented seeds- essentially, there wouldn't be organic crops- all food would be GMO. In turn, Whole Foods Market and sellers of organic goods wouldn't have a product. They would be out of business.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

My last two posts have been rants. While I typically enjoy 90% plus of my day, I find the remaining 10% fun to write about. I will be warm and fuzzy next time, I almost promise.

This afternoon I went to a reputably snooty department store to purchase a select few items. I am always open to see what else I may be tempted to buy and more often than not, I do. I'm a sucker for clothes and beauty products. I walked through the section from where I typically find essentials- quality cotton lounge-wear, versatile dresses that are appropriate for both day and night, jeans and such. The sales people just glanced and at me and continued on with their tasks- folding clothes, fixing displays, restocking the shelves with items left behind in dressing rooms- the sorts of things that are too demanding to do and greet someone at the same time. I was finally asked by a overly groomed man if I needed anything while in a quick stride- as if he knew that I did not. I would like to offer those at Neiman Marcus some sales tips.

-The best way to talk people out of money is to talk to them.

-That often people who dress comfortably do so because they are that- comfortable!

-That people who are less concerned by how others perceive their worth often have the most of it. They are worth approaching.

And a final note to think of while your sitting in traffic in your 2002 Grand Cherokee- you would make a great rent a cop, or VIP host, or one of the other professions in which they take their job's importance too seriously- they probably pay better than your current one. You, too, may then be able to purchase the items that you sell.

I walked out and went to Nordstrom where, as always, I had a pleasurable experience.

Monday, January 24, 2011

Yesterday I lunched at my regular vegetarian spot. No news there. I dined alone with a book which I often enjoy, but today I found myself distracted by the other patrons. The restaurant was packed- tables of women from my neighborhood and nearby ones; where dads bring in above average incomes and the once "cute" moms workout and lunch with each other during the day before they pick up their tots from school. Upon entering, some greeted other women at nearby tables before sitting down at their own with their pod of other mom friends. I watched them size each other up for any signs that the other's husband is doing more successfully than their own. They seemed to dole out compliments to one another so that they would receive one (just as put-on) in return. I wonder the purpose of these women. To pop out kids who vote republican?

After, I venture to Barnes and Noble. I was speaking to my mom on the phone and as not to disturb others, I moved to the children's section. I was sitting on a one foot mushroom stool under a cardboard tree, speaking quietly, when I heard, "SSSHHSHHHH!!!" from across the 25,000 square foot room.

Shshhhhhhhh??

I got up to see who brought me back to the 2nd grade. Which hairy lipped teacher was reprimanding me? Mrs. McMullen? It was a middle-aged woman looking at me with utmost disdain. She was sitting by the window with her legs crossed. I'm not good with judging weight but it would be fair to assume that she had about thirty pounds to lose before she could walk without her thighs rubbing together causing sparks to fly. My mom has said to equate one pound of fat with a hamburger patty. She had at least thirty of those squeezed into her jeans, so thirty pounds is accurate enough. "You're so loud! I can hear everything that comes out your mouth!" "You're rude and fat. And I can see everything that goes into yours."

I know now why I never "shhhh" anyone. It's castrating. Not even in a movie theater when the lumps of clay behind me are chewing their popcorn like cows grazing on bananas do I make such an offense. Well, once, when the guy a few seats over seemed to be digging in his popcorn so loud and frequent that I could barely hear the movie. When I turned to him, he was looking back at me and jacking off into a bag- so that is a different story. Nevertheless, I was disappointed by my matching her affront with one of my own.

I returned to Barnes and Noble today and apparently, so did my karma. Because of a babbling, countrified chatterbox, I (again) moved to the children's section where there seemed to be fewer disturbances. In comes a little shit head who is screaming, throwing books on the ground and ripping them up. Being the bibliophile that I am, this pisses me off. I don't care if it's The Big Bad Wolf or Virginia Wolfe, I would be bothered the same. I am having visions of hurling the brat across the store and I realize that this kid will probably grow into the kind of adult where again, if appropriate, I would gladly hurl across the Milky Way. OK, I'll stop.